Frostbite
by Domingo Pinguinos
Summary: Prussia wanders off to an old field and is trapped by his memories. It is many winters that he lays there until Germany finds him.


The field upon which the Prussian man lay had centuries ago gone barren. There had once been a time when the flora here grew in abundance and the surrounding trees had filtered the summer sunlight, casting about everything a listless and jaded feel with the heat. This was a time when Gilbert had the ability to rule himself, though it was not upon this which he dwelt. Rather, his thoughts were endlessly occupied with his younger brother. Absently, Prussia remarked to himself how, over the years since his status as a nation had been terminated, he'd allowed his age to seep in. His hair no longer gleamed the pale gold like the sheen of a crown, as it had faded to a wintry white of which the snow would surely be envious. The true mark of his age, however, shone through in his memories. West had aged rapidly - it seemed like a simple blink of a ruby eye had been he only noteworthy occurrence before the boy had become a man. Gilbert may not have been the eldest of all the nations, but he was certainly the only one to be stripped of the honor of his title and consequently they had not felt what he had since his dissolution. He was distant now, as though he were a separate entity, neither living nor dead. He lacked direction which perhaps was the reason why he'd eventually meandered to this particular clearing of memories. Time itself had slowly lost meaning and, as he lay there in a pile of his thoughts, he lost awareness of it and his environment.  
When Gilbert next awoke from his endless stupor, he was shocked to find that he was in fact acutely aware of his surroundings. The bare tree branches no longer stood out in dark relief against a backdrop of graying sky, but in fact were softened dreamily by snow that had long since fallen. As his eyes focused, Prussia could make out a sole figure looming above him.  
"West," he greeted, as though it were merely a comment as fragile as a single snowy flake. There was a distinct difference between their styles of dress; Prussia still wore fall clothing and while his style seemed odd, it was evident that Germany was more suited for winter. The blonde nation held a single token out for his brother: a candycane. When Gilbert said nothing, Ludwig explained,  
"It is the winter holidays of 2011. You've been gone a very long time now." His voice was chastizing as though the Prussian had merely been late for a conference. He took the treat nonetheless and slipped it into his pocket. In an attempt to ease the atmosphere, the burly blond said fondly,  
"I remember when you first gave that to me - to keep _me_ quiet during the Advent services." Prussia, both more amused and slightly more relaxed, replied with his own memory.  
"And when we used to make snow angels here - come on!" he teased, "Lay down and make a snow angel with me." The albino was almost desperate - how he longed for the times of old!  
"That is childish," his brother countered, though he too laid himself upon the snow. Frantically, Prussia moved his arms up and down, opened and closed his legs, these foolish movements now muscle memory, while Germany began to mimick him. The exhileration of movement, though it served no purpose, thrilled him and he began an infectuous laugh that spread soon to Ludwig, though that was more due to the happiness of hearing the boisterous brother that he loved so. Only when his muscles ached from excessive motion did Prussia stop, breathless, his hand colliding and tangling with Germany's. At once the high from laughter evaporated and the smile that remained vanished. Their heads turned to face one another's and a crisp chill began to bite into their cheeks.  
"I wish..." Prussia began thickly, but the words to describe his conflicting desires had long since left him on a timid wind that stirred the strands of their hair. As it was, it happened to be this space in which Gilbert had first taught Ludwig the governing rule that all nations must remember - while history could be learned from, it would not do to linger, to regret, while there remained still a course of action to take. And it was this that, through a tender kiss half pressed against the snow and half wrapped in the gentle caress of a chilly breeze,that Ludwig reminded his beloved brother.


End file.
